


when you leave me in the morning, leave me with a kiss | dnf

by loginwastaken



Category: DSMP - Fandom, DreamSMP, mcyt
Genre: DSMP, M/M, One Shot, mcyt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:08:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loginwastaken/pseuds/loginwastaken
Summary: Every morning, Clay wakes up and leaves at least ten minutes to himself to remain in bed with his partner. To keep track of time, he puts on his watch first thing in the morning. He'd always assumed George slept through the commotion; the ten minutes of silence and affection had always been a selfish sort of pleasure for him because of this.But every morning, George wakes up to the sound of Clays watch clasping shut around his wrist; a sad reminder he was leaving once again.What will happen when George confronts the other and asks him not to go? Will the moment suspended in time and ecstasy lead them both to confess greater feelings for one another?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), dreamnotfound - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	when you leave me in the morning, leave me with a kiss | dnf

**Author's Note:**

> If either CC states they're uncomfortable with works of them being written, this will be removed, as it's about their real beings specifically and I wouldn't want to cause any harm with it.

Clay woke slowly.

The first thing he noticed was the lack of blanket covering his legs. It was fairly normal for George to steal all of the comforter that he could throughout the night, but Clay would usually just reach about the bed for it. This morning though, warm rays of sunlight coated his back half in its place. They must’ve forgotten to shut the blinds the day before when they’d laid in the same spot and taken a well-needed cat nap together in the sun, but he was thanking his past self for his prior carelessness. It felt nicer than any heavy comforter, providing a blanket of heat with an added breeze from the fan above them. If he buried his face a little further into Georges hair, he could fall right back asleep and never feel sorry. 

But he’d woken up for a reason. His internal clock had never let him down, this morning would be no different. Prying his eyes open a little wider, Clay worked to wake himself up without actually moving. He was too comfortable to move just yet, an arm under George's neck and the other thrown around his waist. He was folded into him perfectly, and though his arm was tingling beneath the weight of George's head, he wanted to lie there forever longer. 

After a moment, once his eyes had adjusted to the natural light they were drowning in and he’d regained feeling in all limbs, Clay lifted his head to find his watch on the bedside table. It rested on the table's edge, as it always was when he looked for it in the mornings. Clay remained silent as he slowly pulled his hand from where it rested against Georges stomach, out from beneath his hoodie, and reached for the watch. All the while, George remained cozied into one arm, chest rising and falling slowly. 

Clays head hit the pillow again, watch in one hand, and he worked blindly to slip it onto his wrist and clasp it shut. 

It was that familiar clicking of the watches clasp that woke up George. His own internal clock was busted and broken, but Clay clasping his watch in the silence of their room had proven to be a perfect alarm. His eyes shot open before squinting in the natural light, watching as Clay held up his right hand and adjusted the watch around his wrist, the muscle beneath Georges head tensing now and then as the other moved his hand about. Had Clay been still, he would have noticed the tensing of Georges head when he woke up, but he hadn’t been and missed the tiny clue entirely. He faced the back of Georges head still, peeking over his bedhead to the watch on his wrist as he turned it slowly. After he’d finally turned the watch face to rest on his inner wrist, he dropped his hand onto the pillow again, relaxing again. 

It had gone as every morning had; Clay waking himself up, usually around 10-15 minutes before he needed to get out of bed and dressed for the day, putting on his watch to keep an eye on the time as he cuddled George while he still had the time, and any moment now he would sigh and gently tug his arm from beneath Georges head and slowly crawl out of bed in an attempt to not disturb his partner. George had always assumed Clay knew he also woke up and enjoyed the few minutes they shared before having to separate for the day, but Clay was clueless. He’d always thought George slept through him fumbling for his watch and out of bed every morning, silently enjoying the time he had with his partner for his own selfish reasons. 

Clay had always held these few minutes with George close to his heart, though he’d never said it aloud or even planned to. When they both laid silently, holding each other close, there was nothing more innocent, nothing that screamed pure love more in his eyes. He’d never known George was even aware of the few minutes he lay awake in the morning, or he’d always assumed that if he had known, he thought nothing of it. It was just a personal, selfish luxury for Clay. 

And the morning continued as it always had. Clay occasionally lifted his hand, squinting his eyes to better see the time on the clock face until it read 8:00am. He readied himself to leave the comfort of their bed and Georges warmth, soft sigh escaping him. Unwrapping himself from George, he rolled onto his back, turning his head to watch himself gently tug his arm form beneath Georges head. He dreaded leaving the bed, it was always the worst part of the morning. 

Once he’d finally released his dead arm from beneath the other, he stretched them both above his head with a groan, freezing at the alien feeling of a hand on his bare side. Despite the warmth of their room, George's hand was cold as always. His head snapped around to find the other turned onto his back and resting his hand tiredly against his side. He mumbled something as he yawned, whining words making it even harder to understand. Clay caught a word or two, a softly spoken, _“- then don't-”_ as he leaned down closer to George. Resting an elbow on the pillow next to Georges head, he leaned down, brows furrowed and a look of concern on his face. Immediately, he felt bad for even waking George, but concern filled him as he questioned what he could be saying.

“Say it again,” He whispered, freehand resting on the other side of George's face. He caressed his cheek softly with his thumb, not wanting to disturb him any further and unnecessarily wake him up so early. George leaned into Clay's hand, eyes falling shut as his own hand raised to gently hold Clay's wrist, not wanting him to pull away again.   
  
“You sighed,” He mumbled, lips brushing the ball of Clays' thumb as he turned further into his hand. “You sighed, so if you don’t want to leave, then don't.” George opened his eyes again, eyelids heavy with sleep as he squinted up at his partner. He raised both hands to reach for Clay, whining softly in complaint as he pulled him down and back into bed with him. He’d been disturbed, woken up from such a nice night's sleep, and he wanted to fall back into it with Clay back in his arms. Clay complied with Georges tugging for a moment, leaning down further to bury his face in Georges neck and rest gently atop his chest. He pressed a single soft kiss into the warm skin beneath his partners jaw, a smile tugging his lips. 

“George, you know I need to get ready,” His lips brushed George’s skin softly as he spoke. Pressing both hands into the bed, Clay pushed himself up and off of George, prying his arms from around him as he did so. “I want to stay, you know I do, but I have things I need to get to.” Clay tilted his head slightly as he spoke, brows tucking inward and turning down apologetically. George only sighed dramatically, one hand still clinging to Clays waist as the other dropped to his forehead. He splayed his fingers out in a dramatic façade of distress, as if about to faint at the news. 

“No, I understand,” He began, sighing again as he let his hand fall from Clays waist and turned onto his side beneath him in an attempt to symbolically turn his back on the other. Clays lips curled into a quick smile, eyes rolling at the theatrics. 

“ _Oh, c’mon,”_ Clay replied, a laugh escaping him. George closed his eyes, pretending to sleep again. After Clay finished laughing at his dramatics, he started to fake snores. Anything to keep him there a little longer, to keep him laughing and keep his attention on George for only a moment longer. He loved Clay's attention being completely on him. He loved fighting for it, loved proving to others how easy it was to have Clays full and unbroken attention. But he loved most when they were alone. When Clay was so wrapped up in him that the rest of the world melted away. 

George’s fake snoring was met with silence, an unexpected turn of events. Usually Clay would do something to prove George wasn’t actually sleeping, tickling or kissing, _something._ Opening one eye, he peeked at Clay. From what he could make of the blur from the corner of his eye, Clay seemed to only be staring. Opening both eyes, he turned back onto his back and looked up at the other, but was met with only Clay’s doting stare. It immediately sent heat rushing to George's cheeks. 

Without a word, Clay connected their lips, his freehand not currently supporting his weight raised to Georges face again. Fingers tangled in hair on both parts as hands reached and roamed and held. It felt as if time had genuinely stopped. Even the sun knew to not move within the sky because its rays would no longer bury them in warmth. George was fully awake now. If it hadn’t been the bickering moments ago, it was the fire within their kiss that woke him. The way Clay arched his back, pressing himself firmly against George as his hand held his neck. The way his own grip on his partner was so desperate, so needy for him to stay in that very position, to not leave his grasp for anything on Earth. The way that right then, in that very moment, it felt as if neither of them would ever have to leave this spot again. Their kiss would be eternal, their lives would be suspended in time and space together forevermore. 

And then he pulled away. Clay pushed his hand into the mattress and lifted himself from George again, who followed his lips needily before whining at their absence. 

Clay’s cheeks were a fiery red, he could tell so himself. So lost in the ecstasy of waking up next to his partner in the morning sun only to share such a kiss, he was ready to give his entire day of work up for another hour or more with George. He had only phone calls waiting for him, a meeting or two _maybe_ , but they could all be rescheduled. This moment with George, pouty eyes and dishevelled hair, wearing Clay’s own hoodie, looking at him like he may melt if he didn’t kiss him, he couldn’t bear the thought of walking away from it all.   
  
“I love you.” The words came out breathless and only then did Clay realize he’d been holding his breath since pulling away from their previous kiss. George smiled softly, rolling his eyes.   
  
“I know,” He laughed softly, brushing the statement off as their usual jokes. Clay didn’t smile or laugh in return though, brows furrowing as he came to terms with his own realization.   
  
“No, I’m _in_ love with you,” He started again, cutting George’s laugh off entirely. “You’re the only thought in my head throughout the day, I can’t think when you laugh let alone _kiss me_ ,” The words tumbled right out of Clay’s mouth, his body stiff where he was still turned and propped over George in bed. “The world falls to our feet when you look at me, it’s like nothing beyond you and I matters when you pull in closer to me at night and in the morning, nothing compares to you, no one ever will.” His chest felt tight with nerves, but he knew he wouldn’t get the answer he was hoping for. George had always been fairly bad with expressing his feelings, speaking about them so bluntly, especially such intense feelings, he wasn’t sure he’d get a response _at all_. And for the most part, he was right. George only stared, head spinning and reeling over everything Clay had said. He wasn’t sure what to say or how to respond to something like that. He froze beneath the others stare, any move felt wrong and nothing he could say could possibly compare to or meet the level at which Clay had just expressed himself. 

Clay felt sick the longer he waited, but he knew George wouldn’t talk in such a confrontational and direct manner. He needed to know that he had been heard though. He needed to know that George had heard what he’d said too, that he believed him and knew that he was entirely serious. His dry eyes stung as he blinked slowly, but he didn’t notice over the nerves in his stomach. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against Georges, willing him to return the kiss. Return the kiss and let him know that he had been heard, that George understood his feelings, that he shared them. His eyes squeezed shut and for a very short second, he thought maybe George _wouldn’t_ return the kiss. And in that instant Clay thought he was going to lose everything. That he’d have to pull away and face his unrequited love, and go on to work knowing he had ruined it. He would have to face George everyday knowing his feelings were not matched nor returned. He leaned further into the kiss, readying himself to pull away and face all that could have been, and only then did George return the kiss, hands raising to grab either side of Clay's waist. 

George’s grip was clinging and desperate, his back arching as he tried to press himself further into Clay. It felt like five ton had been lifted from Clay’s back; he felt heard and felt loved. He could feel all George wanted to say but couldn’t race through him as Georges hands roamed and explored his body. When he pulled away for air, a small tear had fallen from the corner of George's eye, crossing his temple and disappearing into his hair.   
  
George's chest felt heavy with the weight of his own silence. He’d not intended to come across so harsh or unloving, but the words were lost to him. But Clay had understood that completely. He knew he only needed to reach out with a bit of familiarity, he knew he needed to trust in George to find a way to speak to him. He laughed softly despite himself, and George only furrowed his brows in response.   
  
Clay smiled, his hand creeping up George's skin, hidden beneath the hoodie he wore, needing to be as close to him as possible in that moment. It was hard being vulnerable with others. It was harder being vulnerable together. Hard understanding one another while trying to understand yourself as well. Being physically close helped in moments like these, at least to Clay. George matched his smile, cheeks bubbling up and teeth poking out as it grew across his face. After a moment, he was laughing, and Clay couldn’t help but join in his delight. The birds outside their window sang on as the two enjoyed their morning together, wrapped in each other's arms until the sun had moved across the sky enough to no longer peek in at them from their blinds. Until Nick was knocking on their door and asking what they’d be having for breakfast. Until their phones were both blowing up with missed work calls and friends waiting impatiently for replies.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't hesitate to leave one-shot suggestions in the comments ! I always come up with little ideas like the watch thing, with George waking up to the clasp of Clays watch clicking, Clay wearing his watch just to keep an eye on the time as he cuddles George, stuff like that that I have to write out. So I'd love more cute shit to write.


End file.
